“Umm, is everything okay over here? Livvy, what are you doing over here? This isn’t your section. You have tables waiting for you,” our server said.
I truly believed that was the only reason Livvy walked away. Our server still had no clue what was going on, but she apologized on Livvy’s behalf before serving our food. As soon as she left, Mr. McCoy began clapping.
“I think you lost your way for a moment, Son, but thank God you’re back. That was the man I raised. Welcome to the family, Khiya.”
Everyone laughed.
“Thank you, Mr. McCoy.”
“Nah, we’re family. Call me Pops.”
“Okay, Pops.”
The rest of our dinner went off without a hitch. The food was delicious, the conversation was enlightening, and the company was everything. The McCoys reminded me a lot of my family, and I felt right at home.
Two hours later, when we arrived back at the condo, I was naked before Sylas could lock the door. He turned, and his eyes widened with surprise as he began to undress.
“I see what kinda time you on,” he said.
“My pussy’s been wet since you set me straight.”
He grabbed the front of my neck and pulled me into his space. We kissed frantically as I helped him remove the rest of his clothing. He picked me up and slid me onto his dick. With his hands gripping my waist, he pounded into me as if he were trying to prove a point.
Somehow, we made it to his bedroom and fell onto the bed. His pounding turned into slow, deep stroking. Something different was happening between us, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Every kiss, every caress, every moan, every groan, and every stroke felt different.
As my pussy began to pulse around his dick, and his dick began to throb inside my walls, we looked into each other’s eyes, and that was when I knew I’d fallen in love. Those three words may have been absent from my tongue, but they were present in my heart and soul.
Sylas and I parting ways was always bittersweet, but today was harder than the times before. I couldn’t believe I was on the verge of tears as we walked down the hall toward the elevator.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“I’m sad.”
“What are you sad about?” he asked as I stepped onto the elevator.
“We won’t see each other until Friday.”
He pushed the button for the lobby, then draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
“This is the first time you’ve been emotional about us being apart. I think you might be falling for a nigga,” he teased.
Little did he know, I’d fallen head over heels for him, but I didn’t respond. We stepped off the elevator in the lobby and exited the building. It was sunny outside, with mild temperatures for April, and we walked slowly to where my car was parked.
After I unlocked the doors, he put my bag in the back seat, and I leaned against the trunk. He stood in front of me, wrapping me in his arms.
“What time are you heading to the airport?” I asked.
“About four. My flight is at six.”
“Okay. I’ll call you when I leave my parents’ house.”
He kissed the top of my head before leaning back a bit to see my face. He gently took my chin between his thumb and index finger before pressing his lips against mine.
Our kiss lingered, neither of us wanting to be the first to move away. Eventually, he lifted his head but pecked me several times before finally putting some space between us.
“If you don’t get in that car, I’m gon’ carry your ass back upstairs,” he warned.
I didn’t move, because that was what I wanted him to do. I stared at him, almost challenging him to do it.
